


Photograph

by ordinarylittleme



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinarylittleme/pseuds/ordinarylittleme
Summary: "That girl in the photograph, who is she?"





	Photograph

"That girl in the photograph, next to Father - who is she, Aunt Alice?"  
Renesmee smiles up at me, completely oblivious as to who her mother was. From beside her, Edward glares at me as if to say _Don't, she's too young_. But she can't be shielded from the truth forever, and now that there's a photograph, she can no longer be. His face darkens at my thoughts, but he doesn't say a word. He knows that I'd loved Bella as ardently and passionately as he did, if not more so. Does Renesmee suspect that her mother died so she could live? Has she guessed that Isabella Cullen's last words were "Save my daughter"? I don't know. I don't want to know, the answer will hurt too much. A vision flashes in my mind, of me and Renesmee talking, and I blink hard to dispel it. Thinking about Bella's sweet smile hurts too much so I push it away.  
"She doesn't matter. Forget it, Renesmee," I say finally. She hands me the photo, pouting. She knows she's put her father and I in our melancholic moods, as she calls it.  
Even though Edward's the telepathic one, I can tell what he's thinking. _Seriously, Alice? I can't even remember her, much less forget her. How will she?_  
I know, Edward. I know. I'm so sorry.  
"Her name, is it Bella? Where can I find her?" Renesmee asks pleadingly. "She's pretty." _She was._ In the photograph, Bella's laughing and spinning in a circle, her hair flying out behind her. Grass tickles her knees and the sun shone in her hair, dying it blonde. She looks like an angel. She is an angel.  
"No," I tell her.  
"No?"  
I take a breath I don't need, steadying myself for my next words. "No, her name _was_ Bella."


End file.
